


The Uncertainty Principle

by picturestoproveit



Series: Missing Scenes [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: A fic about a blow job in front of a picture of space, Episode: s03e17 The Team, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Humor, I’m not even a little bit sorry, Jemma Simmons Has No Chill, Missing Scene, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV Jemma Simmons, PWP, Who needs space because you have something magnificent right here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28841565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picturestoproveit/pseuds/picturestoproveit
Summary: Missing scene from S3E17, “The Team”. You know the one.The tags speak for themselves.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Series: Missing Scenes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145312
Comments: 21
Kudos: 76





	The Uncertainty Principle

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I know that the nice, family-friendly folks over at ABC wanted us to think that two horny people in their mid-twenties with a decade of unresolved sexual tension between them had a PG -13 make out session, kept all of their clothes on, called it a night, and went on to have a serious discussion the next day about “what happened last night”. 
> 
> But it’s time to face the facts. We all know she blew him.

Jemma was done talking, even if he wasn’t.

More than that, she was done _thinking._ She lunged and caught his mouth mid-sentence, effectively swallowing the remainder of his “picture of space” joke (adorable as it was), and replacing it with a series of muffled moans and sighs. She ran her tongue along his bottom lip and was instantly rewarded with his hands on her waist, pulling her up and over until she was straddling his lap. She clutched both sides of his face as she parted her lips and licked her way into his mouth, tangling her tongue with his with an intensity and, dare she say, _desperation_ that she hadn’t realized she had been feeling until that very moment. 

What she knew for certain going into this was that she loved Fitz more than anyone she had ever known. That she wanted to be with him, and only him, for as long as time would allow it. And based on their previous encounter in the lab, she knew that kissing him felt _amazing_. 

Kissing Fitz had made her feel loved, and cherished, and accepted, and above all, _safe._ And after the events of the evening – Malick’s death, the explosion, Daisy’s team in shambles – she had been craving those feelings again. She needed that love and safety only Fitz could provide. 

Yet in the process of seeking out that connection, she had somehow forgotten about those _other_ feelings that usually accompanied a prolonged make out session. Which for someone with a doctorate in biology, was more than a little bit embarrassing. 

Arousal. Stimulation. _Desire_. 

Oh dear lord, she wanted him. All of him. Badly. 

She slid her knees apart, lowering herself until her core was pressed firmly into his lap, and whimpered against his mouth as she felt him harden beneath her pussy. She rocked her hips down and forward, sliding against the ridge of his erection, seeking more friction, and Fitz rewarded her with the type of groan she had only ever imagined in her fantasies. His hands, which up until that moment had been working their way up the back of her jumper, promptly slid to her ass and pulled her down against his groin, firmly holding her in place as he bucked his hips up against her heat. The button of his jeans pressed against her clit and she cried out, breaking away from his mouth and falling forward into the crook of his neck. 

“More,” she breathed, clutching his shoulders tightly. Fitz, brilliant boy that he was, didn’t need to be told twice. He tightened his grip on her ass and began pushing and pulling her against his hardened length, and she moaned helplessly against his skin, the sensation of his cock pressing against her clit setting her nerves on fire and making her lightheaded with desire. 

“Fitz – _oh_ \- don’t stop,” she panted, undulating her hips in time with his thrusts, her pussy soaking wet against the cloth of her panties, hot tension coiling low in her belly and spreading rapidly throughout her throbbing core. 

She could scarcely believe how close to the edge she was already, and they had only just begun. 

Jemma buried her face deeper into his neck and whimpered against his skin as she quickened her pace, feeling greedy for more contact as she ground down on him as hard as she could manage. She mentally congratulated herself for selecting a pair of lightweight trousers that morning, rather than her usual jeans. Though it was highly likely the thin fabric was not doing much to disguise how incredibly wet she was, it was positively _excelling_ at allowing her to feel every inch of his cock as it parted the lips of her pussy, their joined movements sliding her closer and closer to her breaking point. 

Within moments her legs began to tremble, and she forced herself to hover at the precipice, not ready to let go of the sensations. _That_ was definitely a first for her. Her meager collection of prior sexual experiences had _always_ been orgasm-driven, in which her goal was to reach completion as quickly as possible so her partner could come. In those instances, the thought had never crossed her mind to delay an orgasm to prolong her own pleasure. It just hadn’t seemed like the polite thing to do. The expectation, while not explicitly verbalized, had always been clear with her previous lovers – for her to come quickly (and loudly, of course) so they could hurry up and get off while keeping their egos intact. 

But here, in this moment with Fitz, as she slowed her tempo just enough to draw out the pleasure without toppling over the edge, she understood that no such expectation existed. In her heart of hearts, she knew that he would hold her and let her dry hump him for as long as she wanted. It was the loveliest sentiment Jemma had ever realized, even if it wasn’t the most poetic. 

Of course, Fitz – her brilliant, sweet, thoughtful Fitz – read her mind. Keeping one hand firmly on her ass, he moved his other up to the back of her head and began to stroke her hair. “That’s it, Jem – take what you want,” he whispered roughly in her ear, pressing his hips upward as he helped guide her movements. “I’ve got you. Whenever you’re ready, I’ve got you. That’s my good girl, that’s it-“

Well. There was no more holding back after _that._ Dear LORD.

He wasn’t even done pronouncing the “g” in _girl_ when the dam broke, and Jemma swore she felt her heart stop as she broke apart with a sharp cry, the pure ecstasy emanating from her pulsating center and coursing its way through every nerve ending in her body. Fitz wrapped both arms around her torso and pulled her tightly against his chest as she helplessly rode out her climax, a seemingly endless series of waves crashing over her again and again until she thought she might pass out. Or cry. Or maybe both.

When the last of the tremors and pulsations finally subsided, Jemma’s muscles relaxed and she collapsed fully into Fitz’s arms, feeling boneless and more than a little dazed. He continued to stroke her hair, pressing gentle kisses to her temple and neck while she softly floated back down from her high.

And what a high it had been. Without a doubt, it was the most incredible orgasm Jemma had ever experienced, and she was still fully dressed. She couldn’t even _begin_ to fathom the possibilities once he managed to get her clothes off. 

Jemma smiled, the fleeting thought of future naked exploits sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. She wiggled contentedly in his lap, and... _oh._ _Right._ He was still hard as a rock, pressed firmly against her inner thigh, and she felt rather than heard the groan he tried to stifle as it rumbled against her chest. 

She pulled back and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You were right. That _was_ something magnificent,” she whispered with a grin, and leaned forward to gently capture his lips again. She felt him smile against her mouth. “I know what I’m about,” he replied cheekily, tilting his head to press a series of gentle pecks along her jawline. 

Jemma rolled her eyes and giggled. “So humble,” she teased. “And I know what I’m about, too,” she continued with a sly grin. She planted a kiss to the tip of his nose and slowly slid down his body until she was kneeling on the floor between his legs. She placed both hands on his knees and slowly ran them up his thighs, keeping her eye on the _very_ impressive-looking prize in his lap and inching her fingers toward his groin, when he suddenly reached down with both hands and caught her wrists. 

“Jemma, you don’t have to - I’m okay,” Fitz breathed, staring into her confused eyes. “You don’t owe me… I mean, I’m happy to just take care of you. I don’t want you doing anything you don’t want to do.”

Jemma exhaled impatiently. “Fitz, I’m only going to say this once, so please listen carefully. I am doing exactly what I want to be doing, _not_ because I feel obligated to return any favors, sexual or otherwise,” she stated bluntly. Deciding not to give him any opportunity to respond, she quickly leaned over his lap and pressed her open mouth to the hard ridge that was straining against the fly of his trousers.The denim felt rough and hot against her lips as she slowly dragged her tongue up toward his belt buckle. 

His hips ratcheted toward her mouth, a move that she was quite certain was completely involuntary, and she couldn’t help but smile at the noise he made when she closed her lips around the head of his prick and exhaled a slow, hot breath through the layers of fabric that separated his skin from her mouth. “So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take your cock out now and suck you off,” she concluded, her voice as matter-of-fact as if she were dictating voice notes in the lab as she worked his belt buckle loose with one hand, gently massaging his clothed erection with the other.

Jemma glanced up, attempting to catch his eye, and _oh._ The poor thing. He looked positively wrecked already – head back against the sofa, eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving. His lips were moving silently, and her heart swelled with affection when she realized what he was doing. 

“Fitz, stop reciting the periodic table and look at me,” she said with a giggle. He cracked open one eye and peered down at her. “I wasn’t reciting the periodic table,” he said in his grumpy voice, though the effect was ruined by the crooked smile on his face. He took a few deep breaths and reached forward with one hand, gently smoothing her hair away from her face and fixing her with a brilliant blue gaze. “I’m not some Neanderthal who needs to rely on such a rudimentary form of distraction to, um, _control_ myself in front of a beautiful woman,” he said with mock-seriousness. 

Jemma smiled widely and leaned into his palm. “Oh, of course, Dr. Fitz,” she demurred, arching an eyebrow. “How silly of me to assume such a thing.” She turned her face and placed a soft, slow kiss to his palm. “Can you ever forgive me?”

His breath hitched sharply as his fingers tensed, ever-so slightly, against the sensitive skin behind her ear. “Of course I can, Doctor Doctor Simmons,” he breathed out, and she giggled again. Even being seconds away from the promise of a blow job couldn’t stop him from teasing her about her two PhDs. He slowly leaned back, assuming his previous position but leaving his hand against her neck, gently stroking the skin with the tips of his fingers. “Why don’t you go back to, uh, what you were doing before,” he continued, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink, “and I’ll go back to silently reciting examples of Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, and we’ll call it even.”

Jemma burst out laughing at that, and reached for the button of his trousers. “Only _you_ would think about quantum mechanics at a time like this,” she said, working the button through the loop and lowering his zipper. She bit her lip in an attempt to stifle her laughter, which resulted in a very un-ladylike snort. She clapped her hand over her mouth and dissolved into giggles. 

“Could you at least _try_ not to laugh while you’re undoing my pants?” Fitz pleaded, though he was starting to crack up a little, too. “It’s really not polite, Simmons.” 

She grinned up at him. “Noted,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “And I’ll try to keep the Planck’s constant jokes to a minimum, as well.”

The look he gave her at that– a perfect mixture of exasperation, desperation, and complete and utter adoration – melted her in every possible way. She was quite certain that no man in the universe would ever look at her the way he was looking at her now, and her heart nearly burst. She would be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t thought…ok, _vividly_ fantasized about the act she was about to perform, countless times over the course of their relationship. But in her wildest fantasies (and some of them were _very_ wild) she couldn’t have ever predicted that she would feel so loved, so understood, and just so damn _happy_. 

“Jemma,” Fitz groaned, his tone half-laughing and half-pleading. He tipped his head back against the sofa and stared down at her with imploring eyes. “You’re killing me.”

Fair enough. She knew she was torturing the poor boy a bit, but a decade of verbal jockeying was a hard habit to break, even when she was about to swallow his cock like a starving woman. She decided to take pity on him, and reached into his open fly, closing her hand around his erection and pulling it gently through the front of his boxer shorts. 

_Well._ There was certainly _nothing_ subatomic about what he was packing, that was for sure, Jemma thought with wide, delighted eyes. She wisely kept her joke to herself, having decided that she had teased him enough for one evening, and leaned forward to press a kiss to the crown of his rock hard prick. (She _would_ have to remember to tell him later, though – like any man, she presumed that Fitz would appreciate both a compliment on the size of his penis _and_ a good sexual innuendo).

“I’ve thought about doing this before, you know,” Jemma murmured, and as if to demonstrate, licked a long, slow stripe up the underside of his shaft, keeping her brown eyes locked on his blue ones all the while. The expression on his face was priceless - jaw hung open and looking for all the world like he couldn’t remember how to breathe. 

“Y-yeah?” he finally managed to choke out, his fingers flexing against the back of her neck. “You, um...when?”

Jemma grinned. “Hmm,” she hummed, lightly stroking her hand up and down his ridged length, her motions gentle and unhurried. “I think the first time it popped into my head was during one of Professor Vaughn’s lectures in our third year at the Academy.” She leaned forward and languidly swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, pulling back to lap a bead of precome from his slit with slow precision. 

“Jemma,” Fitz whispered hoarsely. He closed his eyes and exhaled a shaky breath. “Fuck...are you serious?” He groaned, moving his hips in time with her slow strokes. “That- god, you mean...that long ago?”

“Mm-hmm,” Jemma affirmed with a sly smile. “We were sitting in the back corner of the lecture hall that day because we had stayed up all night studying for the forensic analysis midterm and we were exhausted.” She pressed her lips against his frenulum and slowly tightened her grip on his shaft, continuing to stroke him slowly. “Vaughn was droning on about...god, I don’t even remember now...and I looked over at you,” she continued, smiling faintly at the memory. “You were slouched all the way down in your seat, and your eyes were closed, and you just looked so...attractive. I just had this sudden urge to kneel between your legs and wake you up by....” she let her words trail off and decided to show rather than tell by rising up on her knees and taking the head of his cock into her mouth, sucking hard. Fitz gasped, his free hand scrambling for purchase on the armrest of the sofa while the hand on her neck moved to the back of her head. 

Jemma swung her hair behind one shoulder to reward him with an unobstructed view as she worked his cock, taking him deeper and deeper into her mouth with every stroke of her tongue. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucked vigorously, squeezing the base of his prick as she moved her lips up and down his length, glorying in his ridged heat in her mouth, savoring the taste of him on her tongue. 

Once again, Jemma found herself feeling surprised. She was actually _enjoying_ this. The blow jobs she had given in the past were usually on the perfunctory side - part of some unspoken social contract, an action that she felt was expected of her. It wasn’t that she _minded_ sucking dick, per se - it just hadn’t been terribly stimulating for her, physically _or_ mentally. She had actually worked out an entire organic chemistry proof in her head once while waiting for Milton to pop off in her mouth. 

Needless to say, chemistry problems were the last thing on her mind at the present moment. The feel of Fitz in her mouth, hard and heavy and throbbing, was _definitely_ holding her attention. The noises he made, the sound of his breathing, the feel of his fingers threading through her hair - it all left her with a heady sense of...something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, actually. She filed it away to be examined a later time, when she was a bit less preoccupied. 

Jemma moved her mouth up slightly to focus her attention on the crown of his erection, alternating between licking and sucking the head of his cock as she began to move her hand up and down his shaft. She could tell by the change in his breathing pattern and the way his leg muscles were fasciculating beneath her that he was nearing his release, and she increased the firmness and velocity of her strokes to encourage him. 

“Jemma,” Fitz gasped, squirming in his seat. He tapped at the back of her head. “Jem - I, I’m going to-” he continued, sounding frantic and desperate, scooting back on the sofa a bit as if he were trying to pull away. If she hadn’t currently had a mouthful of his cock, she would have smiled. Sweet Fitz, ever the gentleman, assuming it would be impolite to shoot off down her throat. Or assuming that she wouldn’t want him to, when the truth was she couldn’t think of anything in that moment she wanted more. 

Jemma reached back with her free hand and placed it on top of his, where it was resting on the back of her head, and gently pressed down while she moaned around his prick, hoping he understood what she was trying to tell him. She raised her eyes just enough to catch the question in his desperate gaze, so she answered him the only way she could, given the current circumstances - by sliding her mouth as far down his shaft as she could manage and sucking hard. 

Jemma felt the precise moment he finally broke, his whole body tensing beneath her as he choked out a litany of indecipherable curses. The first jet of come hit the back of her palate with impressive force, so she eased back up to the tip of his cock and sealed her lips around it, gently suckling as his warm release pulsed into her mouth. He brought his other hand up to join the one tangled in her hair and held her in place as she swallowed him down, one mouthful at a time, until he was finally spent. 

After a brief moment, she pulled her mouth off his dick carefully and placed a kiss to the tip, discreetly wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked up at him and took in the view with a satisfied smile. He looked as if he had fallen from a great height and just happened to land on the sofa, his chest slowly rising and falling, his eyes closed, and his face flushed and relaxed. Jemma couldn’t remember the last time he looked so peaceful. She carefully tucked him back into his trousers and pulled herself up onto the sofa beside him. 

“How’s Heisenberg?” she asked cheekily, lifting his limp arm and draping it over her shoulder as she nuzzled against his side. 

“Slightly less uncertain than previously assumed,” Fitz murmured with a smile, eyes still closed as he gently stroked the side of her arm with his fingertips. She grinned and rested her head on his chest, tracing the buttons on his shirt with the tip of her fingernail. They stayed like that for several minutes, basking in the blissful silence, both of them knowing and appreciating that quiet moments at the base were so few and far between. 

“I wasn’t sleeping, by the way,” Fitz said drowsily, breaking the silence. “In Professor Vaughn’s class that day. I remember that lecture. He was talking about the history of the Stoneman Document and APSE compiler optimization.” He turned his head and opened his eyes, gazing at her adoringly. “Actually helped me put the finishing touches on the back-end of my compiler structure.”

“Aww, Professor Vaughn’s third year compiler theory,” Jemma said with a fond giggle. “That’s right. You used it to break us into the swimming pool right after midterms.” She smiled and nuzzled against his shoulder. “Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t try my wake-up technique on you, then,” she said with a saucy grin.

“If you had I probably would have gone into cardiac arrest,” he replied, chuckling. “Nineteen-year-old me would _not_ have been ready for that.” He squeezed her arm and tucked her closely against his body. “Not a bad way to die, though. If I had to choose.”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Death by blow job,” she deadpanned. “What an honorable way to go.”

Fitz nodded solemnly. “A noble death,” he agreed. “The stuff that legends are made of.” 

Jemma laughed and reached for his face with both hands, pulling him close and kissing him deeply. “How about nobody dies,” she murmured as she broke away from his mouth, brushing the tip of his nose with hers. “There’s been far too much of that, and not enough of the other stuff.”

“If by _other_ _stuff_ you mean fooling around with the woman I love, then yes,” he said fondly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Jemma sighed happily. For the first time ever, she knew exactly where in the cosmos she was meant to be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr, https://pictures-to-prove-it.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> It will be a good time, I promise.


End file.
